The resurgence of a heroic act lied in one’s ability to selflessly place another person above oneself, notwithstanding the consequences of the suffering and ache it brought forth. When the gallant rainstorm receded by sunrise, the heroes who embarked through the hazardous rainstorm rested in bed. None were immune to the plague instituted upon their bodies; they caught a fever.   Since early morning, Hyunmi had spent her hours making the comfort dish needed by an ill patient. Once the porridge was finished, Joochan and Jineul helped her distribute a bowl to every sick patient. All except for one, the very last one, which Joochan handed to Hyunmi.   “Mr. Nam has not been given his portion, but your presence by his side may awaken him like a budding flower during Spring time,” Joochan spoke, an unusual mischievous tone accompanying his habitual prose.   His words managed to ignite a sudden jolt in Hyunmi’s heart, wondering whether the boy had been correct. If he had, dear heavens, she could not stop herself from anticipating his recovery.   “In return, I ask for your assistance in tending to the others,” she said, placing the final warm bowl of porridge on a tray, along with a lukewarm glass of water.   “Worry not, mother. We won’t let any of them die, not even the dunce Sungjong who monopolizes our space by sleeping in the living room,” Jineul spoke her violent words with an accompanying sweet smile. Uncanny. But nothing less could be expected from the fierce girl.   Hyunmi chuckled a little, carried the tray in her hand, and ascended upstairs towards Woohyun’s room.   The spiraling feelings fluttering in her chest must have been the gratitude she could no longer confine. Woohyun’s presence at their house, though detested at first, ended up being a blessing. Nay, in fact, his presence in her life had been phenomenal, and she dared not think of spending a day without seeing his passionate gaze, his dimpled smiles, his merry laughter, or his sweet words. A life without him was unbearable to imagine.   Knowing she had conjured such thoughts made her blush, her heart galloping faster when she reached Woohyun’s room. He would most definitely make a kittish remark of her reddened cheeks, and without being hit by the raindrops, she had no excuse to blame the fever.   Her worries dissipated when she entered the room, noting the tranquil silence. Woohyun was still asleep.   She silently placed the tray on the nightdesk beside the bed, careful not to make the utensils rattle, allowing Woohyun to remain well rested.   It was time to leave, to let him be, but once again, her body had a will of its own. With her posture turned towards the door, she peered over her shoulder to the serene state of Woohyun’s sleeping posture, not knowing what made her move to sit at his bedside instead.   His chest rose and fell beneath the blanket in a calming rhythm. The sound of his breathing was a soft lullaby that surpassed the gentleness of a fine windy breeze during the warmer season, calming in the sense she would not mind listening to it for the rest of her life. He was utterly handsome when his charming eyes gazed at her, but in his sound state, there was another sort of ethereal beauty to him. His skin glowed despite his warm temperature, his lips puckered a peaceful smile, and his cheeks were a spot of two roses.   Hyunmi never realized studying the man would ignite a sudden release of affection that overflowed through her. This was the man who risked his life to save her brother, who ran into the rain to save the boy she considered her own son, the man who listened to her rantings, and calmed her of her worries. This was the man who made her believe in things she had already given up hope for.   Her hands instinctively reached out for his, faintly brushing her fingers around his idle ones. He felt warm, like the blazing flame of a hearth she wished to always wrap herself with.   Suddenly, he made a small noise, twitching his fingers at the physical contact. Before Hyunmi could retract her hand, he already wrapped his own fingers around hers, clutching a grip he wouldn’t release. Then his eyes sprang open, and met hers with a smile.   “Good morning, precious,” he spoke, his voice an astonishing low timbre that made her body tingle.   She had mistaken her own heart’s pace. Whether it was the affection he beheld her with, the beautiful smile that greeted her, or the term of endearment no one else had ever spared her with, her heart paced a million times faster now.   “Good morning,” she managed to relay the words without stuttering, slightly averting her eyes from him, knowing she would not want to look away had she peered deeper into his hypnotizing eyes.   Woohyun noticed the weird behavior, and widened his grin. Then he peered at their connected fingers, and absentmindedly began drawing circles with his thumb.   “It appears I was correct once again,” he spoke with a b tone of pride.   “How so?”   “If I were to fall sick, I reckon you’d be the first person at my bedside,” he spoke, the smile spreading over his lips. “And here you are.”   “I equally care for every single one of you,” she retorted.   “Truly?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “Do you hold their hands during sleep and wait by their bedside as well, or am I, once again, the only one with such privileges?”   Knowing her defeat, she tried pulling her hand as a sign of protest only to have him hold on even tighter.   “Do not be mistaken, Mr. Nam. I came here to offer my utmost gratitude. You saved my brother, and also prevented calamity to befall Donghyun and Youngtaek,” she said, her voice a soft lilt. She kept her eyes on their connected fingers, reluctantly forming a smile. “Thank you.”   After moments of silence, she dared to look up at him, seeing he had been staring at her with the most affectionate smile, one that cherished her, and viewed her as some treasure.   “It is my pleasure to be of service to you,” he said, mimicking a formal curtsy from his bed. The clumsy movement made her giggle, and he always took pride in his ability to draw the beautiful smile on her face. “I would have done it for any of them. I have grown to love them as if they were children of my own.”   “Donghyun refers to you as his father now,” Hyunmi remarked, the smile still visible on her lips.   “Considering I risked my life to save his, I suppose it is the highest title I could earn from the little boy,” Woohyun said with some humor. Then he squeezed her hand, unconsciously starting to caress her soft skin again. “What draws me most to the endearing term is the knowledge that he refers to you as mother. For a fleeting moment, I can experience what it would feel like to be your lover.”   What an appealing thought it was, and Hyunmi nearly spoke words of agreement. However, she maintained the last bit of self control despite her heart’s increasing tempo.   “If you bear the strength to spew enchanting words, I suppose you can eat. I made porridge,” Hyunmi quickly averted the topic. She reached out to the bowl as Woohyun released her hand and sat himself up, leaning against the headrest.   “Porridge? Have you made it yourself?” He asked with a clear hint of excitement.   “Yes. It is an effective remedy in a time of fever. Though judging on your fervent behavior, you hardly seem the sick person, Mr. Nam.”   “That is because you are here with me. Haven’t you heard? The true cure to a malady is another person’s tender love and affection.”   Her heart pounced at his words, and she kept her eyes on the porridge, afraid to see what brilliant smile he graced her with. “You are a remarkable story teller.”   “Ah, you didn’t deny my claims. It must be true then. You love me.”   Hyunmi didn’t expect him to be so brazen with his words. She jolted her head at him, unable to articulate a response. Had it been true? Had she already fallen in love with him?   “Eat,” she quickly prompted, pushing the spoon before him, which he happily obeyed with the child-like demeanor she sometimes saw in him. What an adorable sight it was.   She realized, whether he was the charming gal sneaker, the arrogant aristocrat, the jolly child, or the empathetic comrade, sh